


Terms and Conditions

by Misunkun



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Current Events, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pet Names, Secret Relationship, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 11:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17507876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misunkun/pseuds/Misunkun
Summary: Terms and conditions are only worth the nondisclosure paper they're written on. In the end you make your own. Kyungsoo and Jongin have known this all along.





	Terms and Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt at something of a band-aid for the January 1st news for those who might want one. ❤

Kyungsoo changes planes in Singapore.

It’s a transit airport which makes swapping flights that much easier – his luggage is simply re-routed internally without anyone having to pick it up off a carousel. It’s an old trick but one that’s still the easiest to pull off under watching eyes. Especially on something as public as his first holiday in working memory.

The passenger plane from Seoul lands on the farthest runway in Changi airport which for once isn’t an inconvenience. Mask in place, Kyungsoo waits patiently until everyone has departed the plane and then stands, gathering his bag from the overhead storage bin. When he descends the rickety staircase buffeted by the incoming winter storms, the last of the passengers are already ducking into the hastily-erected overhang that will take them upstairs into the warm terminal.

Kyungsoo instead takes a sharp left turn the moment his feet hit the tarmac. The waiting van is sleek in the drizzling rain, black and shiny with its faint covering of droplets as it sits, engine purring. Kyungsoo hauls open the back sliding door and slips inside, shaking the lapels of his coat.

The driver speaks little to no Korean and doesn’t recognise him, which is very much what Kyungsoo asked for. As far as the middle-aged man is concerned, Kyungsoo is a nameless businessman from overseas and has need of his services. Because the only way to travel completely unseen in Changi is to take a private vehicle and avoid the internal terminals. Kyungsoo settles back. The drive is relatively short, merely a transition between runways and Kyungsoo’s intended destination is in view within twenty minutes.

The private jet is stark and small against the other, far larger commercial aircraft but it’s positioning ensures it’s single cabin door is angled away from even the most curious of eyes that happen to be glancing out of the aerobridge windows. It’s there that the van pulls up, neatly parking parallel to the steps that are already silently waiting. Kyungsoo tips the driver generously for his time, as befitting his cover and leaves without a word. The wind catches his coat as he steps out and he holds it pinned closed against his throat as he jogs across the asphalt and up the slim steps.

The hostess greets him with a broad smile and a bow as Kyungsoo fishes first his ticket and then his passport out of his inner coat pocket and flicks it open, confirming who he is. Indicating the long, open cabin with a wave of her hand, she points towards the back.

“He’s already here.”

Kyungsoo thanks her and moves through the cabin with its wood furnished, bullet-like appearance and sets of soft, cream-coloured chairs each paired up facing one another over a small table. All are empty. Only the two of them will be taking this chartered flight tonight.

His companion is in the very back seat. Kyungsoo stows his bag overhead and sinks down into the seat facing him. Jongin looks exhausted, eyes drawn and face shadowed. He glances up once as Kyungsoo reaches him before tossing the phone he’s been clutching onto the small table.

“It’s done.”

Pulling the blanket embroidered with the airline’s fancy insignia up over his head, Jongin sinks back into the seat, cocooned. Kyungsoo glances down as the small screen fades to black and while the lines of writing are too small to read, he recognises even upside down SM’s familiar letterhead at the top of the page.

The phone winks out and Kyungsoo sits back, buckling himself in. The cabin door closes and the engines begin to whine, revving up.

The digital clock recessed into the panelled sideboard reads January 1st.

~*~

They have nearly seven hours to kill before they make their overlay in Tokyo so Kyungsoo dozes. Jongin remains a covered, silent ball every time Kyungsoo cracks his eyes to check so once they hit cruising altitude and the hostess has been waved away from trying to offer them food he allows himself to drift off solidly.

Kyungsoo wakes several hours later, blinking open to find Jongin has uncurled. He’s staring out the small, oval window at the silent stars outside; they’re chasing the night with this journey and even after what will be more than fifteen hours in transit it’ll still be the same day when they eventually land.

The main lights in the cabin have long been dimmed and Kyungsoo can see Jongin’s profile backlit from the reading lights; he’s resting his chin on his hand. Kyungsoo shifts and Jongin’s eyes flick to him and then away again. His voice is soft.

“Go back to sleep.”

But Kyungsoo struggles awake because if Jongin is up, he should be too. Now that the blanket is rumpled back down around Jongin’s waist Kyungsoo can see clearly the embroidered teddy bear sweater that mirrors his own at home. Jongin had brought the matching set late last year and Kyungsoo remembers how hesitant he was to offer the twin to Kyungsoo. Would it be too much? Too obvious? Would Kyungsoo even wear such a goofy little item?

But Kyungsoo had fallen in love with the little bears in their cute outfits and had taken it with him. Jongin had been overjoyed.

Now Kyungsoo knows he’s wearing it as a shield. Jongin keeps his chin on his palm and his eyes on the black starscape outside but he speaks again, quietly.

“Do you think anyone will figure it out?”

Kyungsoo isn’t sure if the question is directed at him or if Jongin is just talking aloud, but he rubs his aching eyes (he’s had another seven hours of flight time on top of this one already and his brain is sluggish) and murmurs, “Who?”

Jongin lifts a shoulder. “Anyone.”

Kyungsoo muffles a yawn but his words come out a little distorted anyway. “It was planned out. If it’s been done well enough no one should.”

Jongin winces. “For all the planning the leak was sloppy.”

Kyungsoo has been in the air since the timed news item was released so he’s not sure what the details are. He clears his throat and Jongin continues, frustrated.

“I thought they would only need the photos. But the images are blurry. The man they sent was a novice.”

“Doesn’t that make them more authentic looking?”

Jongin shrugs again. “They must not have liked them either because they tried to make up...” he frowns at the glass. “They tried to be clever.”

Kyungsoo’s smile is wry and he knows Jongin can hear how sarcastic his next words are because when Kyungsoo speaks them Jongin smiles out at the night sky.

“Dispatch? Overdoing it? Never.”

Jongin toes him under the table and Kyungsoo hooks a foot around his ankle to keep him from retreating. “I’m sure they’ve thought it all out.”

Jongin makes a derisive noise. “I wasn’t even in Paris when she was,” he mutters. “Anyone can check that. I left before she arrived.”

Kyungsoo runs a soothing foot up Jongin’s calf. Long, rhythmic sweeps. “They wanted an Instagram fairytale. You can’t blame them.”

The frustration bleeds out of Jongin like someone has turned on a tap and let it all out. “What they  _wanted_ ,” he says quietly. “Was my help. She’s not a bad girl,” he adds thoughtfully. “If she can ride this out she’ll be okay.”

And Kyungsoo knows this too. He’s never personally talked to any of the small girl group with their infamously strict ban on interactions with male idols, but he knows of them. They’re young in terms of their careers and Kyungsoo still remembers the day Jongin came out of the joint, non-disclosure riddled meeting between YG and SM in October with a look in his eyes that said something was about to change.

This decision had already been made and shook upon before he had walked into the room. Agreed at the highest corporate levels but it would be nice, they said, if Jongin also gave his blessing to cooperate. There were rumours they said, that needed to be dissolved. Scandalous talk involving Yang Hyun Suk that needed to be forgotten while legal action took place. A young girl with a solo album that needed every chance it could get without her being mired in malicious talk. And an idol with a crafted playboy image was the perfect solution to all of that.

Jongin had given his blessing. Had walked out of that meeting with a straight back and a high chin. And if silent tears soaked Kyungsoo’s shoulder later that night when no one else was around, it was the only time he ever showed any sign that this was something that was going to take a toll.

Kyungsoo had held him that night in the bed they shared and every night since then as the days ticked past and the prearranged date drew closer (Dispatch loved their dramatic dates, Baekhyun had told them once with a roll of his eyes) and the new year finally loomed.

When the time came Kyungsoo had loaned him one of his scarves, fished out a beanie, held Jongin’s hand all the way to the garage and kissed him goodbye before he got into his car. That was when Jongin had finally told him that YG wasn’t the only one with something in this deal they needed to hide. SM wasn’t a company picked of convenience. Dispatch had pushed their hand with the familiar threat of exposing what they knew about the two of them, specifically. 

It was an old annoyance, one that the media company flexed its proverbial muscles on each year in an industry that turned a mostly blind eye when it suited them, but this time for some reason it had hit a nerve. Or maybe SM had decided that along with deniability the benefits to Jongin’s own upcoming solo project was bonus popularity enough, Kyungsoo doesn’t know. He never asked. All he does know they haven’t particularly cared in a couple of years what the two of them do as long as they aren’t exceptionally, recklessly stupid about it.

Jongin’s gentle voice now brings Kyungsoo back out of his memories. “You’re still tired. Go back to sleep.”

Kyungsoo attempts to shake his head but he can feel how heavy it is on his shoulders. “Wake me if you need me,” he finally acquiesces.

Jongin returns to looking out the window as Kyungsoo succumbs to sleep again.

“I always need you.”

~*~

Tokyo is a rest stop of merely two hours. Jongin wraps himself up in a grey pitta mask and a bucket hat pulled so low over his face that he walks only by following Kyungsoo’s feet ahead of him. They cross between terminals at Narita International which is wonderfully spacious and easy to lose yourself in. Kyungsoo carefully guides them both to the gate they need, coat done up and scarf tightly around his face in long loops. No one looks twice at them.

Jongin, restless, buys a pair of small souvenirs at the toy park for his littlest family members and then spends the rest of the time sitting next to Kyungsoo in the hard plastic seats as they wait to be called, arms folded across his chest and his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. He didn’t get much real sleep on the previous leg and finally dozes. Kyungsoo wakes him when they call for first class passengers.

The spacious seats aren’t as soft as the private jet but they’re side by side, which Kyungsoo prefers. There’s a thick armrest and benchtop between their private little capsules but the moment they take off, level out and the seatbelt sign comes off, Jongin lifts it out of the way and reclines his seat into the flat sleeping position.

Kyungsoo takes the complementary pyjamas that are handed out, one for each of them and goes to the bathroom to change. When he returns Jongin swaps out and by the time he gets back looking soft and fluffy in the light grey material, Kyungsoo has pushed his own seat flat and is waiting.

The blankets are thick and a little scratchy from being washed so many times but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind. Because Jongin is under them with him and amid the dimmed lights sets about flinging an arm and a leg over Kyungsoo to cuddle until he falls into a fitful, twitchy sleep.

Kyungsoo doesn’t sleep on that second leg. He stays awake to make sure no one points so much as a phone at them in the dark. Thankfully the rest of the passengers in first class keep to themselves.

Jongin clings to Kyungsoo for the whole flight. Kyungsoo holds him, presses kisses to the crown of his head whenever he makes a noise in his sleep and tries not to think too hard about what will happen after the next few days are over. He hopes the world is kind to the boy in his arms with a heart bigger than anyone he has ever known.

~*~

A private car waits at the far side of the airport for when they disembark. Their luggage is to be collected by escort and sent on to their hotel, Kyungsoo is informed as he guides his sleepy bear into the back seat and slips in with him. Truth be told Kyungsoo feels like he could also sleep for a week at this point, but that’s the jetlag talking. For now it’s too beautiful a drive to miss and he holds Jongin’s hand as the iconic scenery peels into view and glides past.

Hawaii in the summer is stunning, after all.

Jongin lolls his head back against the seat rest and lifts their joined hands to point out things that are familiar; streets, shops with names he can read off in English and long, winding stretches of mountains in the distance that look far too green to be real. Kyungsoo cracks the heavily tinted window a fraction to smell the salt air.

“I can’t believe you picked to come back here,” Jongin murmurs, but his tone is happy. “Of all the places to spend part of your first real vacation.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, running his thumb over the back of Jongin’s knuckles. “I know I like it here. We all have lots of good memories from this island. Plus,” he smiles contentedly. “The penthouse is private and this time there’s no camera crew.”

They only have a scarce couple of days before Kyungsoo has to fly to his intended holiday destination to be seen and recorded and in retrospect it’s a long way to come for what amounts to a weekend, but these are important days and Kyungsoo wanted to return to somewhere they were both fond of. The last few moments of seclusion before the show began.

Jongin mindlessly taps out the background beat to Tempo against Kyungsoo’s palm as they drive and Kyungsoo doesn’t think he knows he’s even doing it. But a musical Jongin is a happy one and that above all else is the whole point of coming a third of the way around the world for two days.

~*~

Jongin flops onto the huge white bed that resembles sea foam, sinking down comically into it’s plushness. His voice is giddy.

“I think this is a water bed.”

“A what?” Kyungsoo calls back from where he’s at the front door thanking the bellman for the speedy delivery of their two suitcases.

“The mattress has water in it!”

Kyungsoo wheels both of the small cases in. “I can barely see you.”

“Come try it.”

Kyungsoo walks over to the high mattress that sits like a marshmallow on top of it’s beautiful wooden base. Jongin is a starfish in the middle. Behind him the wide clear glass windows leave a stunning view of the coastline and it’s turquoise blue ocean that Kyungsoo remembers being so astonished at the first time they all came here so many years ago. He’s still looking when Jongin sits up, latches on and bodily hauls him onto the bed, flopping back so Kyungsoo lands on top of him.

Throwing out a hand to brace himself, Kyungsoo finds the undulating softness of the mattress shocking. “How do people sleep on this?” The room is an upgrade from their usual quarters in this building and this is… new. Kyungsoo paws at the mattress with his palm, squishing it.

Jongin looks up at him from where he’s sunk into the covers, grinning. “I like it. It feels like a hug.”

Kyungsoo pulls an exasperatedly fond expression and levers himself down onto his forearms, nearly overbalancing in the process. It leaves him above Jongin and he dips his head down to brush their noses together. Despite his reservations on its practicality, Kyungsoo knows he could easily fall asleep here. They both could. But they stink of long distance travel. So he pecks Jongin who has already let his eyes slip closed and stretches back up to wobble off the mattress’ edge. “We need to take a shower.”

Jongin groans but Kyungsoo holds out a hand and waits patiently until Jongin acquiesces, sits up and takes it, tugging him to follow. It’s only when they get to the bathroom that Jongin perks up.

“I forgot we have all of this to ourselves.”

Designed for up to four people to stay in comfort, the bathroom like the rest of the villa is huge and normally more than adequate for when they all split into two groups to bunk here in Hawaii. But now the long stretches of marble tile and twin sinks seem huge without the other members’ stuff cluttering the benchtops and dangling in makeup bags from every available hook. Jongin slides an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist and muffles a yawn against his neck. “Want to join me?”

Something electric tingles in Kyungsoo’s stomach at that offer, even if he knows they’re too tired to be acrobatic in the large glass confines with its massive waterfall of a shower head. Sehun fell in love with one of these the first time he saw it and would almost live underneath the thing every time they got back from filming at the beach.

Kyungsoo goes to turn on the taps while Jongin undresses. He fiddles with the temperature trying to get it perfect while Jongin drops his clothes in a small, smelly heap. He pads naked over to Kyungsoo and rather unhelpfully lifts his shirt up while Kyungsoo is still working on the taps which just ends up a mess all round and Kyungsoo’s laughing by the time Jongin wins the tiny war and gets him to leave the water alone and raise his arms.

Jongin strips him of his pants and underwear too and then all roaming hands, herds Kyungsoo into the shower with far too much glee for how tired he was a moment ago. The waterfall of warm water hits and Kyungsoo groans, tipping his head back into it. There’s enough room under the spray for Jongin to do the same without having to nudge him out of it and Kyungsoo swipes the water from his eyes to see Jongin flicking his wet hair to one side. It’s so cute that Kyungsoo taps him on the nose.

“Turn around. I’ll scrub while you wash your hair.”

It’s a familiar routine, although back at home it’s not as pleasant as this because someone always has to stick out a little from the nice hot spray. But here is where they’ve always taken advantage of these roomy showers and all the opulent features. Slipping back into that routine is soothing in ways that Kyungsoo is impossibly grateful for.

Peeling the little cake of complimentary soap out of it’s now-soggy packet takes a moment but it lathers spectacularly once it does so Kyungsoo covers every inch of Jongin’s broad back he can find in the bubbles, washing away the day’s travel while Jongin scrubs shampoo through his own hair and rinses it out.

When he turns back to face Kyungsoo to have his front washed, Jongin pours out another handful and massages it over Kyungsoo’s head, careful not to get the suds in his eyes. He’s hard from all the petting and attention but Kyungsoo finishes cleaning him, tying not to purr at the long, skilful fingers that know just where to press and rub behind his ears and down at the base of his skull.

It’s always the most loving of competitions whenever they do this, to see who can lull the other under the fastest, make them boneless and relaxed. Kyungsoo’s hard too from how nice everything feels and as he rinses down over Jongin’s front he swipes a lazy hand still full of slick bubbles up and down Jongin’s cock under the pretence of still cleaning.

Jongin moans breathily, his hands faltering where they’re rinsing Kyungsoo’s hair free of the shampoo. He lazily pushes his hips into Kyungsoo’s fist, silently asking for more as he works and Kyungsoo, soft and obliging now, runs a hand down across his balls where they hang heavy and full between his legs. Jongin’s head dips and he rests his dripping cheek against Kyungsoo’s, rubbing like a kitten. His voice is quiet.

“Remember when we first did this?”

Kyungsoo hums, watching Jongin’s cock as he pulls his hand back to it and forms a ring with his fingers, bobbing so each time the slick, flushed head pops through, shiny with pearlescent bubbles and precum. “Jongdae was just outside sleeping off his birthday drinks. You made enough noise that I was glad the alcohol dulled his senses.”

Jongin giggles, the sound trailing off into a hitched breath as Kyungsoo pushes him back into the heated, slippery tiles and mouths along a water trail that slides down a tendon in his neck. Jongin’s hands leave his now-clean hair and drop to Kyungsoo’s ass instead, squeezing as he lifts a long leg and wraps it around Kyungsoo’s hip, thrusting them both lazily together.

The steam builds slowly as Kyungsoo lays a palm flat on the tiles and meet’s Jongin’s movements, the soap suds running in thin, glistening trail as they rock, moans caught between bitten lips like there’s a chance of getting caught even now. Kyungsoo wants to ride this slow build-up of slippery heat as Jongin takes eager palmfuls of his ass and squeezes, fingers dipping down, chasing the soap suds that skitter between his cheeks.

Kyungsoo drops his free hand away to land on Jongin’s slick hip, tugging him a little firmer, harder as Jongin rides Kyungsoo’s body. His head tips back to thunk against the tiles and it’s from below heavily lidded eyes that Jongin gazes down at Kyungsoo, looking like carnal sin manifesting itself, soaking wet and naked and watching Kyungsoo like he’s making a mental list of every filthy thing he wants to do to him tomorrow when they have the energy. Because right now Kyungsoo can feel the exquisite build of pleasure tightening his stomach at the slippery feeling of Jongin in his arms; at just having him right here, right now, all Kyungsoo’s in a way the world will never be able to see. It’s perfect and Kyungsoo knows he wants to come decadently, unhurried just like this, cocooned away from everything that exists outside this room, these walls and this magical little island. Just the two of them riding each other languidly in a shower fit for a king.

Jongin’s leg tightens as he starts to pant, faint mewls caught on each exhale as he lets go of his plump handholds and starts to grab at Kyungsoo all over, both hands roaming slick and hot, bucking his hips as he loses the ability to go slow. He’s always like this, fierce and unable to rein in how much he wants to come with Kyungsoo, on him, in him; Jongin is territorial that way and Kyungsoo thrills at it. At how wanted it makes him feel, how darkly hot he finds it. That raw, impatient yearning to mark, to  _be_  marked. Claimed.

Kyungsoo tips his face up for a kiss, unwilling to relinquish his dripping, warm handful of tanned skin to drag Jongin down to him. And Jongin obliges like he always does, capturing Kyungsoo’s mouth and the watery trails that run past it, lapping and suckling and Kyungsoo tenses up because he can  _feel_  his orgasm coaxed tighter and hotter and he just knows he’s going to come, it’s too good to take stretched out much longer because he  _wants_ , he’s twitching so much. He nips Jongin’s lips, hungry to get him there first because he’s panting in earnest now; little winded sounds that grow higher in pitch as he grabs at Kyungsoo’s waist and tightens his thigh’s hold, heel bumping just below Kyungsoo’s ass, squirming as he curses and trembles and finally, tugging Kyungsoo tightly against him, he comes all over their stomachs with a bitten-off groan that makes Kyungsoo  _pulse_. God.

Kyungsoo rubs his cock in the stickiness of Jongin’s release as it coats them both where they’re joined and it’s dirty enough that he feels it tingle down to his toes when Jongin looks him in the eyes, languid and sated and tells him to come in a fucked-out voice, demands it like Kyungsoo is going to do anything but comply and fuck, that  _tone_ \- Kyungsoo thrusts against him one last time and comes, staining Jongin’s skin for a single perfect second before the spray washes the thick, heavy streaks away. Jongin’s leg unwinds and drops down, nearly overbalancing himself in the process and Kyungsoo giggles, loopy on endorphins and jetlag and this one perfect, quiet, lazy moment.

On love, he knows. On this striking, gangly, mesmerising human being who against all the odds seems to love Kyungsoo with every inch of his impossibly big heart. And when Jongin reaches for the soap to re-clean them of the last lingering residue, his other arm carefully around Kyungsoo’s waist in case he stumbles because Jongin gets lightheaded sometimes after orgasming, Kyungsoo wants to remember this, always. Right here, right now.

Once they’re properly, finally clean they make exorbitant use of all the available fluffy towels, realising only when they’ve finished that their pyjamas, along with everything else, is back out in the suitcases. At which point Jongin declares them far too much work to retrieve and totally unnecessary. He drags Kyungsoo out and over to the the silky, liquid bed that bobs gently as they settle themselves under the sheets and amid the mounds of pillows, naked and smelling like all the green tea scented hotel amenities they’ve used. It’s heaven after plane beds and airport chairs and Kyungsoo is rapidly rescinding his opinion on how comfy water beds truly are. He picks out the softest pillows and kicks the rest to the floor.

Jongin has the most endearing habit on nights when he feels the most needy of wanting Kyungsoo to lie almost completely on top of him. He’d explained it once that it was like a gigantic security blanket against the rest of the world and as Kyungsoo feels Jongin gently, wordlessly tugging at him now he knows tonight is one of those nights. So he slings a leg over and settles himself right on Jongin’s chest, arms around his sides and hands tucked up under his shoulder blades. It’s basically a sleeping hug and Kyungsoo has learned to perfect it, settling his head over Jongin’s heart. A pair of strong arms come up to rest in place against his back and Kyungsoo can feel the sleep they’ve dodged around closing in fast at all this warmth. He fights it long enough to press a kiss to the beating muscle under his cheek.

“You know I love you, right? Whatever happens, however it happens, that will never change.”

Jongin’s arms tighten sleepily and release again. “Now and forever, jagi.”

* * *

Two days. Jongin builds crooked sandcastles on the beach during the day and holds Kyungsoo at night like the last bastion in a storm. Their little water bed bobs continuously. Kyungsoo finds the one store chain that sells the famous chocolate-covered shortbreads shaped like pineapples that Jongin adores and picks out multicoloured cocktails with names they can’t hardly pronounce after dinner.

Jongin sings along quietly to the local live band when they play a famous song beside the torch-lit pool and when they return to their room he fucks Kyungsoo up against the door the moment it closes behind them, both of them desperate and unwilling to let go any further than his bag for lube. Kyungsoo’s shoulders have faint scratches on the backs of them the following morning and he gazes at them in the mirror, twisted to one side to commit each one to memory.

Jongin buys a clip for his hair shaped like a frangipani and the loudest tropical shirt he can find that makes him laugh. Kyungsoo lays their purchases out on the table, manages the complicated tetris it takes to fit even their small hoard into their full little suitcases and then stretches Jongin out on the bed, undresses him with great care and eats him out until he comes with a shout muffled into the pillows. They don’t need the bed that last night anyway.

They spend it sitting on the floor just inside the balcony, windows thrown wide open. Jongin picks out all the shortbreads with the milk chocolate topping, leaves the white chocolate ones and they wait for the sunrise together. Their planes are scheduled to leave not long after dawn. Two separate flights in two different directions. So Kyungsoo sits as the pale white curtains billow around them, picked up by the sea breeze until they’re dancing steadily and kisses Jongin, whispering words and promises that only he and the ocean will ever hear.

Tomorrow they return to the real world and start again. But for the hours that slip past before the sky bleeds into pastels, this is them. On their terms.

* * *


End file.
